


The Day I Met Mycroft

by tardisswimmingpool



Category: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade - Fandom
Genre: M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2774336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisswimmingpool/pseuds/tardisswimmingpool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was trying to avoid studying for finals, so I wrote this....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day I Met Mycroft

It was snowing out, and I was heading home from work. It wasn’t any different from any other December night. People were rustling about in an attempt to grab last minute gifts for the holiday, and the cabbies were rushing like maniacs to get people across town in time for their Christmas Eve dinners. I’ve never really been a Christmas person unfortunately, but I never turn down the opportunity for a feast. However, my mother was very ill this year, and we all thought it be best to postpone the occasion for a more suitable time.

This being taken into account, I wasn’t in a big hurry to get home. I knew I’d just end up drowning myself in eggnog and watching Telly all nought. Not very festive, I know.

Along the way home I decided to stop for coffee.

The place was surprisingly abandoned for such a blustery winter evening, but I suppose that was a strike of luck for me. I ordered my usual, just a plain mocha. I couldn’t gotten one of those peppermint ones, but I’ve never been much of a fan.

Being the klutz that I was, I dropped my change on the floor, so I reached down to grab it and ended up bumping into someone on the way up. Nice job, Greg.

The man was dressed in a long black coat, and his face was shield by a red scarf with tassels on the ends that looked like it had been crocheted by someone with wonderful talent.

"Excuse me," my face blushed a little, but I tried to hide it from the stranger.

"No, pardon me, it was my fault," the man says.

"No, no, it was mine," I stutter and try to make my way politely around the man.

Unfortunately, I did not see the wet floor sign on the other side and slipped. My coffee splattered all over the floor, and I bumped my head on a trash can.

"Oh my," the stranger said, "Are you alright?"

He helped me up, and I nodded but rubbed my head. That was going to be a bump.

"I’m terribly sorry. I should’ve said something about the sign. I’ll buy you another drink."

"No, it’s alright. I’m a klutz."

"I insist," the stranger said. "Mocha?"

I nod.

"My name’s Mycroft," the man says.

"Greg."

"Pleasure to meet you," Mycroft says. "Care to join me when the coffee is brewed?"

I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed.

We had a lovely chat. We talked mostly about work, but I talked much more than he. It made me feel a little egocentric. Especially since the stranger was very handsome, and I didn’t want to come off as a narcissist. But the man didn’t seem to mind at all, and he actually seemed intrigued by my work. I really enjoyed talking to him, but I swore there was something about him that seemed familiar. Hadn’t I seen him somewhere before? No…it couldn’t be.

"You wouldn’t happen to know Sherlock Holmes, would you?"

"I wish I could say no, but he’s my brother."

"Wait, Mycroft HOLMES?"

"One and only."

Shit, I was attracted to Mycroft Holmes….

He checked his watch.

"Oh, I better go. Christmas dinner at my parent’s. I already tried to get out of it, and it didn’t work. If I don’t show up, they’ll send Sherlock like a bloodhound to hunt me down."

He stood up.

"It was very nice to meet you, Greg."

"Likewise."

"We should do this again sometime," he handed me a piece of paper.

"What’s this?"

"My number."


End file.
